The Inaugural Impromptu Blanket Festival
by JennaBennett
Summary: A blizzard strikes Stars Hollow and the town launches into an offbeat event of sorts. Set late Season 4.
1. Chapter 1

_The Inaugural Impromptu Blanket Festival_

 **AN: We break from our (ir)regularly scheduled Castle fic to bring you a Gilmore Girls fic – nothing like a revival to remind you of how much you ship something… Castle fics will be back in the hopefully not too distant future…**

 **Set late Season 4, but before anything significant.**

The wind howled, transforming the usually welcoming town of Stars Hollow into its own special brand of hell. The tree Luke was scurrying past creaking ominously as it tossed backwards and forwards under the pressure of the elements. He allowed himself a quick glance up, confident nothing was snapping off, he continued on his trudge through the thick snow. The kerosene lamp clutched in his hand cast a flickering light through the too dark night. The blizzard had forced the powerlines down hours ago and the lack of street lights had doomed the town to harrowing blackness. He hoisted the laden bag of leftovers and tinned good higher up on his shoulder and shuffled a little further across the town square. He could hear the murmur of voices has he reached Miss Patty's. The town had – somehow, he had no goddamned idea why – come to the conclusion that hunkering down in the hall together was vastly more appealing than huddling in the cold in their own individual houses. The chairs had been pushed to the walls and what seemed like thousands of blankets had been spread over the floor. Soft light spilled from the doorway, the only source of it in the entire town.

Luke slid the door shut behind him. "Is that everyone?" he asked gruffly, pushing his cap back firmly in place on his head as the wind threatened to rip it away. The door rattled, shuddering in the wind. Patty glanced around the room with a dramatic shrug.

"Anyone not here sound off," she trilled laughingly. Behind her, Babette giggled, her laughing gaze darting from Patty to Morey. Luke bit back an eye-roll. He swept his eyes around the room and attempted to mentally compute each familiar face staring back at him. Confident in his rushed assessment, he secured the lock on the door. He nodded firmly to himself before spinning to face the throng of people and – hopefully not futilely – find himself a quiet spot to sit. Oddly enough, he was successful. The townsfolk settled into murmured chatter. It was surprisingly quiet. It was too quiet. Usually in a crowd like this he'd be harassed by now, there would be a constant stream of dialogue sounding off directly into his eardrums. He released a sharp, aching gasp. _Oh_. He swung his eyes urgently around the room, seeking – _desperately_ seeking – but coming up short. His frantic gaze locked on Sookie's. She read the worry on his face and a flash of shock echoed in hers. Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him, gulping hysterically. Sookie tugged her eyes away from Luke's and combed the room.

"No! No, no no," a stream of fearful pleading spilled from her lips. Babette released a shriek, staring at Sookie with a wide-eyed expression.

"We're missin' someone," she squeaked, tugging on Morey's arm with abandon. He eyed her silently. She turned to her other side and shouted. "Lorelai, doll. Where's Rory? We're missing Rory!" The room descended into absolute silence. Somehow they knew… All eyes swung to Luke. The entire town stared at him, stunned.

"The inn," Sookie mouthed haplessly at Luke.

"Huh?" Babette focused her attention on the stricken Sookie, failing to register that her face was white with fear.

Sookie cleared her throat. "Rory's at her grandparents," she reassured Babette… "But, Lorelai…" she trailed off, shaking her head. She locked eyes with Luke once again. "She was right behind me. We sent the contractors home and she was just going to make sure all the windows were locked. She said it would take five minutes, tops. She was right behind me… I swear…" she pleaded with the ever angrier looking diner man. Her eyes pricking with tears as she spoke.

Luke sunk to his knees, head in his hands. His brow furrowed in frustration and his mind raced. This was anything but ideal. Lorelai was the last person he wanted missing from this damn impromptu blanket festival. She was the last person he wanted missing from anything if he was honest. He needed… dammit Lorelai…. he needed to go find her. He couldn't leave her in the _damn_ inn with no power, no heat, probably no damn food either. He knew that Sookie had brought most of the inns supplies to help feed the town in this blizzard bunker. He growled, a plan formulated. He rose from his knees and fixed his gaze determinedly on Sookie. He tugged his jacket firmly around his chest and strode to the door, disappearing through it and back into the elements before anyone in the hall could react.

Luke slammed the diner door open. Flashlight, check. He rummaged through the kitchen, tossing anything food-like haphazardly into a backpack. He yanked the zipper shut and marched up the stairs. His dad had kept those darn things somewhere, he rummaged through cupboards urgently. His eyes locked on worn black plastic – victory. He shoved one of the worn radios into his pocket and hustled back out the door.

Sookie was still gaping hopelessly at the door, thick sobs of worry falling in earnest now. Jackson gripped her hand, rubbing a soft soothing movement over her skin. Sweet as it was, it wasn't working. She was becoming increasingly hysterical with each moment that passed.

"It's my fault," she hiccupped. "Shouldn't have left before her…" another sob wracked her frame. "Now… Luke…" she bellowed. "Luke's going to freeze…"

Miss Patty's door ground open once again and Sookie gasped, her hands jumping to her mouth in anticipation or fear, she wasn't sure which. Maybe Lorelai had been just outside the door? She ran late sometimes, that was plausible right? She pulled stupid-ish pranks that only she found funny every now and then too, right? _Right?_ It was a bit…

Luke, covered in a dusting of fresh show, stepped back into the room. A collective gasped followed. All eyes swung to him once again. He held up the second radio, before handing it to Patty.

"I'll let you know when I find her," he husked. "Tell me if she shows up."

"Be careful doll," Babette warbled, anxiety coating her tone. He nodded briskly and was gone once again.

A fierce shiver coursed through Luke as he darted away from Miss Patty's. His confidence was waning. He was terrified. Although, the fear wasn't grounded his treacherous hike through this damn blizzard. It was something else. It was that little voice whispering in the back of his mind. That dark, dark pocket of his mind that whispered, _what if you're too late?_ He fought it down, honestly he was petrified about that in more ways than one, his immediate concern was that she was hurt or stuck. The other was that pounding in his heart and the rush of heat to his head that screamed at him to make a move. _What if you're too late? What if you're too late? What if you're too late?_ It chanted over and over again through his mind. He pressed on, tightening his jacket against the wind. He shook his head fiercely to dull the chattering of his teeth. Flakes of snow stuck to his lashes, clouding his vision. He tucked his chin into his chest and continued fighting forward against the howling storm.

The unfortunate thing about a steady, but determined trudge through the thick snow was it allowed amble opportunity for thinking. There was only one thing he could think about. Nothing but _her,_ it was the same in most moments anyway, but certainly at a time like this with so much potential for disaster. He desperately hoped she was hunkered down in the warmth of the inn. He couldn't help but picture the worst case scenario… His thoughts spiralled, playing an image of the Jeep plastered into a snowdrift, no longer running and bitterly cold. He could picture racing to the door and finding her blue and still. It would all be wrong, the _blue_ would be wrong. Instead of that twinkling blue that sparkled her eyes, they would be dull, the shine gone. It would be her skin that had taken on the blue hue. He would touch her, hesitantly at first, then frantically, seeking to transfer that inkling of heat still coursing through his veins into her cold skin…

He needed to stop.

He was driving himself insane.

He found his eyes darting around, searching over every inch of road, seeing the shadow of her car in every perilously large clump of snow. He was getting more and more pissed off with every painstaking step. She was really bloody selfish sometimes. She could have left the inn when Sookie had and been in the hall with everyone else. She would have flopped down next to him and rambled loudly about how much she loved the snow for bringing everyone together. She would have coined the term, 'Inaugural Impromptu Blanket Festival,' and he would have groaned predictably. She would have given him special grin, the one he liked to believe she saved for him. That little extra twinkle in her eyes, beaming with delight at his over the top reaction. That's what should've been happening right now. Them both in Miss Patty's with her making the most noise in the place and him pretending to get irritated yet never dreaming of moving further away from her for the peace and quiet. But no, she'd gone and got herself isolated on the outskirts of town with who knows what kind of resources and protection. Dammit.

 **AN: A bit of a deviation for me, but what did you think? Forewarning, my updating will be atrocious… If I were unemployed I would spend all my days writing fic, but alas I am not.**


	2. Chapter 2

Lorelai was beginning to experience a teensy ounce of regret at her recent life choices. For example, two hours ago when the snow had begun intensifying, she sent everybody else away from the inn. She, however, had elected to secure the last few windows and switch off the lights, delaying her departure. Stepping outside she started towards the Jeep, her eyes pinched shut, revelling in the delightful dabs of snow settling on her face. She inhaled a deep, satisfied breath. There was nothing like the snow. Absolutely magical. She stopped, pivoting to face towards the inn. She stretched her eyelids wide in awe. It was beyond breathtaking. _Her_ inn. It was the most beautiful she'd ever seen it, fresh white powder coating the eaves.

The wind picked up around Lorelai and she shuddered despite herself. The movement shifted her gaze and she noticed that she'd missed a window, the shudders snapping open and closed with the weight of the wind.

"Drat," she muttered to herself, the word lost to the weather. She threw a glance over her shoulder at her car, there was a smattering of snow covering it, but she would be able to brush it off easily enough. She let her eyes drift admiringly over the inn for a moment longer. It was utterly gorgeous. She sighed proudly, her chest puffing out as her lungs refilled. "Fine," she murmured, gaze falling to her feet. She drifted towards the front door of the inn, flicking through her keys to find the right one. She brushed the snow off its teeth and pushed it into the lock. It stuck for a moment and she had to jangle it to just the right angle. "There's the sweet spot," she cried in success. Keys were hard, especially sticky new ones that she hadn't quite gotten used to yet.

She meandered through the door, shaking as much snow as possible off her coat as she went. She really couldn't be bothered taking it off considering she would be trudging back to her car in a matter of moments. She switched the light on, double checking each window methodically as she went. It was only a matter of time before the storm worsened and she really didn't fancy damaging her beautiful inn so close to the trial run. That would be an unmitigated disaster.

As she reached the clattering window, she pulled the shutters in and secured the locks, slamming her hand down over them to make sure that they were really jammed into place. "Ouch." She tugged her gloves halfway off to examine the palms of her hand. She shifted closer to the light for a better view. Small red indentations, she scowled playfully, shrugging her shoulders and crushing her fingers back into her gloves. The room was plunged into darkness. Only eerie half-light from the dying end of the day remained. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and marched back to the light switch. A few flicks and nothing. She moved to the reception and tried the lamp in there. Nothing again.

Clearly the impeding storm had cut the power. Not to worry, but it was definitely a sign that it was time to head home. Jackson had called Sookie earlier with some grand scheme of pooling resources during this incoming apparent blizzard and they'd loaded the torches, lamps and food into Sookie's car. Even the coffee had gone… She was due for another one, so yes, it was definitely time to leave.

Lorelai moved decisively towards the open door. "Whoa," she gasped. The wind had intensified, thrashing the fledgling trees into submission, tipping their trunks towards the ground. She whipped her head to the Jeep and released a steady groan.

"Bugger. Bugger, bugger," she moaned, crushing her face in her hands before peaking at her poor car once more. Not only was it now completely shrouded in snow, a white lump amongst many more white lumps, the old creaking tree from the corner of the drive was now the fallen tree blocking the road. "Nope," she nodded through pursed lips and backed into the inn, pulling the door sharply closed in her wake.

She mentally assessed her predicament. No electricity. The inn was bathed in only the very last vestiges of light. It was guaranteed to darken sooner rather than later. That was problem number one. Problem number two would probably end being the cold. Her buzz was wearing off and her attitude was waning. If she lost her little spark and settled into a funk she would feel the cold achingly so. There were blankets upstairs, but only a couple, the rest were at her house, waiting for her to finish stitching _Dragonfly Inn_ delicately into them. Whoopsie-daisy. Okay, so the impending darkness and the impending cold were certainly an issue. But really, they were secondary to the overwhelming despair that hung over Lorelai with the knowledge that Sookie had taken _all_ the food. She may as well pull out some stationary and write her final words to Rory.

A night without food. A night without coffee. She was doomed.

Lorelai shivered, lost in her ever rambling thoughts. Maybe that cold thing was somewhat of a priority after all. She needed to formulate a survival plan. She clambered up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She strode to the linen cupboard, emptying it into her arms. Now, where to situate herself. She briefly considered setting up in one of the beds. A crack of fierce wind causing the inn to shudder and sway precariously nixed that thought. Downstairs was definitely the place to be.

She paused at the foot of the stairs, assessing her options. The kitchen was useless considering the lack of necessities so she ruled that out. Her office might do, surely it was easier to contain warmth in the smaller room. The lack of door was a touch off-putting. Tom was certainly taking his time with securing those blooming doors to their latches. It probably wasn't the time to get sufficiently frustrated at her contractor though.

She scanned the ground floor of the inn one final time. Her eyes settling on the darkened fireplace. _Oh_. That would probably do…

Instead of cursing Tom she was now praising him. His crew of workers had been reluctant to take the scrap out in the crappy weather and the reception was now littered in offcuts of wood. Splendid. She just needed some kindling and some sort of fire starter…like a lighter, or a man. Luke, she thought, Luke could start the fire. She was not the campfire type. Her mother had always had a maid stoking the fireplace when she was a child. She wasn't allowed within 10 feet of the damn thing. Funny how that would've helped her now. She cursed Emily Gilmore under her breath and stalked to the kitchen. Surely, somewhere in all these drawers there would be a lighter.

She rummaged through each one, finding them all too empty. That was unfortunate. Where would Sookie hide a lighter? Inspiration struck. Where would someone hide a lighter from Sookie? Genius in the kitchen or not, sometimes she had a little too much pizazz. The staff at the Independence had been quick to cover their bases. Although, she did think that Michel hid things for sport at times too. She scoured the tops of the cupboard. Success! A box of matches. She opened it. Okay.

A box of _match_.

Not entirely ideal.

Why had her mother deprived her of all these essential life skills?

She was definitely doomed.

Well, she had one shot… and then she was doomed.

Lorelai shuffled back out to reception with a determined grimace. She piled the offcut wood into her arms and plonked it beside the fireplace. She'd watched many a starlet produce a robust fire in many a film. She totally had this. But first, she needed kindling. Her freshly printed _Dragonfly Inn_ stationary stared at her sadly as she rounded the reception desk. She couldn't…

It was that or the books she'd just started stacking into the newly built shelves and she knew that Rory would kill her if it came to that. What was the point of surviving this ordeal to be put to death by her daughter for the destruction of literature? Oh god, it would have to be the stationary. The beautiful, crisp, clean stationary. It had taken weeks to finalise the design and actually get it printed. It had only arrived yesterday. Ack. Why had she let herself get stuck in the stupid – _wonderful_ – inn in this ridiculous blizzard.

She tore a pile of stationary into shreds and bundled it into the fire place. She added some of the smaller wooden pieces over it before creating a tepee of sorts with some of the larger bits. She admired it cautiously, biting down on her lip in worry. This would work, right?

Lorelai reluctantly pulled the lonely match from its cardboard embrace and eyed it speculatively. "It's all on you buddy," she muttered. She struck the match and waited. Nothing happened. Her heartbeat quickened. What was that about being doomed? Okay, take two. She struck it again. A fizzle, then nothing. She began to panic in earnest, twisting the match in her fingers to strike it from multiple angles in quick succession. After what felt like an eternity, a small orange flame whooshed to life. She inhaled a shaky breath and gently reached the match into the centre of the fireplace. The paper burned, turning to ash under her gaze. It was fizzling away too quickly. The wood wasn't going to catch.

She asked herself, _what would Luke do?_ He was obviously both the most outdoorsy and homemaker-y person she knew. Wait. A memory began to form of Luke moaning about her never cleaning out her fireplace. He'd rambled every fire related fact that night, she was sure of it. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity and whooshed a mighty breath into the ashy remains of her fire attempt. The blackened ash flared red, she tried again, another gust of air and there it was, _a flame_. Now she was worried she'd blow it out? She puffed a few more breaths, trying to balance spurring the fire on or quelling it completely.

She was beginning to feel like the original caveman- _women_ , she had created fire. It was majestic. There was hope for her yet. She tugged a worn armchair over to the fireplace and situated herself in it, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and she was set.

A few moments later it dawned on her that she was also bored. Very, very bored. The fire was pretty and all, but it was no _Gone with the Wind_. This was going to be a looooong night. She fed the fire a few more lumps of wood and settled back into the chair. The fire cackled gently and she threw her head back and closed her eyes. A nap seemed the only reasonable activity.

She drifted off, unsure of how much time was passing. She tried not to sleep too deeply, worried the fire would go out. She was sure she must have been dreaming when the door barrelled open and a harsh, but somehow warm voice bellowed –

"Lorelai!"

Dream-her wrenched her eyes open to find an abominable snowman stomping towards her. She squinted. The strange snow monster looked oddly familiar. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried again. The snow coated creature looked an awful lot like Luke? Maybe the fire had gone out and she was actually freezing to death in her sleep? With that her mind, she said the only thing that seemed logical to say to Luke in the middle of a dream.

"Coffee please?" she pleaded, grinning up at him as he towered over her, shuffling snow all over the floor.

Luke gaped at the woman before him in actual legitimate shock. _Coffee_. He mulled it over for a second, shaking his head. You know what, he actually wasn't surprised at all…

 **AN: Thank you all for showing interest in this little story! It's so greatly appreciated. It's nice to see that people are still feeling as obsessed with good ole' Gilmore Girls as I am! Again, updating may not be speedy – my sincerest apologies… Stick with me!**


	3. Chapter 3

Luke was freezing. Actually legitimately freezing. He wasn't one for hyperbole when it came to the elements. If he said he was cold, he was genuinely damn cold and he certainly didn't say he was cold all that often. He remembered one winter, when his dad had built him an ice skating rink in the backyard, he had stayed outside for three days and hadn't felt the cold at all. Liz had lasted a grand total of twenty-five seconds. She had spent the rest of the winter drinking cocoa and refusing to leave the house. Luke, however, loved every second of it. Even now, as an adult, he still enjoyed the season. There was nothing like a little cooler weather to keep his beer from sweating as he gulped it down at the end of a long day. He wasn't one for shorts, much preferring his well-worn jeans. Winter suited him just fine, thank you very much.

He was rethinking absolutely all of that right now.

In fact, he had decided that he rather despised winter. Winter was definitely the worst. Sure, the cold was one thing and he fairly certain the early stages of frostbite were developing in his fingertips, but the worst part was the constant fear and worry that had shrouded each second of his horrible trudge. He was fairly certain, it was only when he saw the soft light bathing the windows of the inn that he could actually take a breath. Even that was relatively strained. It wasn't until he'd shoved the door open, brushing away the foot of snow that the wind had pooled at the base of the worn wood and he saw the brunette hair poking over the edges of the armchair that he legitimately regained some control over his lungs. He tried not to dwell on it, he didn't really need to think too deeply as to why her wellbeing mattered more to him than even his own. He knew. He really knew. He just wasn't one hundred percent sure he was openly admitting it to himself just yet. It would, or at least it _could_ , change _everything_. So, no, no dwelling for him…

"Lorelai!" he called, trying to tamper down the emotion in his voice whilst getting the volume he needed to be heard over the raging wind. He shuffled forward, achingly cold limbs preventing him from moving at speed. He towered over her sleeping form, a last vestige of fear forming as he found her unmoving. After a long moment, she blinked heavily up at him, confusion ebbing in her gaze. It left as quickly as he'd seen the flash of it, that soft, warm smile he liked to think she saved just for him taking its place.

"Coffee please," her eyes pleaded as her mouth did that alluring twist. He stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded. No, that seemed about right.

"Talk about priorities," he murmured to himself. He needed to get warm. Now that he had ascertained that she was in fact breathing with all her limbs intact, he could focus on himself for a moment. There was a second armchair in the corner of the room and he pushed it towards the fireplace. He shook his jacket from his shoulders, draping it over the back of the chair. It was soaked through. He'd be warmer without it. Her eyes followed him as he moved, he could sense it, but she was strangely quiet. He stoked the fire, adding a few more chunks of wood. She tracked him inquisitively as he lowered himself into the chair. She frowned at the move.

"Luuuuke," whiningly slipped from her lips. She pounded her hand onto the cushion of her chair. "Warm me up," she demanded. He could literally pinpoint the moment his pulse quickened. She was placating him with her gaze, not that he needed it. He was very, _very_ open to the suggestion.

Lorelai, on the other hand, was utterly perplexed. Usually dream Luke was unashamedly affectionate. Dream Luke kissed her stomach and said good morning to Leopold and Loeb. Generally dream Luke was all over her like the best kind of rash. Gross. That was a bad analogy. Boy was she tired if even her dream genius wasn't quite up to scratch. Or maybe she was dying of exposure? Same, same. Best to make the most of this time with dream Luke regardless…

Luke couldn't deny her, hell, he'd be denying himself as well. What was some blizzard snuggling between friends anyway? His frozen limbs slowed his movements once again, but he rose gingerly from his chair and motioned for her to make some room. He slipped down beside her and she angled herself into his arms. He rearranged the blankets so that they were both sufficiently covered and wrapped his arms around her. She shrieked.

"Your hands are freezing!" she yelped.

"Sorr-sorry," he muttered, cursing himself a little for not just shoving them into the fire and really warming them up. He started to pull away. He'd ruined this little moment or whatever it was, dammit. But as he made to move away from her, Lorelai tightened her grip on him with a decided little pout.

"No, no, no. Stay." It was probably his favourite sentence that he'd ever heard her utter. Characteristically short and all. He secured her snugly in his arms once again. He pleaded with his body, he could feel his heartrate skyrocketing and he fought to rein it in. He sincerely hoped she couldn't fell his heart thumping and thudding in his chest, threatening to break away altogether and burst out from under his skin.

She stilled in his arms and he realised she was drifting back to sleep. Apparently, the few hours without coffee were taking their toll. He took advantage of the silence to mentally assess his – well, _their_ – situation. He was pressed into the soft pillows of the armchair, Lorelai was somehow contorted all around him. Her head lulled into his chest and she was twisted onto her side so that her legs lay atop his lap. He was feeling just a touch content. This was a vast improvement on the crowded hall full of yabbering townsfolk. Oh damn. The town. He really should let them know, Sookie at least. She would be still be hysterical with worry.

He could see the radio peeking out from the pocket of his jacket. If he just leant a little bit forward… He reluctantly loosened his grip on Lorelai, trying not to jostle her with his movements. She grunted as he dipped forwards. The sound warmed him to his core. He was almost tempted to repeat the movement just to see if it would elicit the same response a second time. He stretched his fingers, the very tips of them just brushing along the cold plastic, not quite close enough to grab. He tightened his grip on Lorelai with one arm, flashing back to their interaction a few days before when she had pulled herself into his arms to ward off the poultry salesman that Sookie had sicked onto her. ' _Don't touch my stomach_ ,' she'd admonished after the unlucky guy had left. Now, here he was, left arm splayed even more possessively across her lower abdomen as her warm breath tickled his neck. No complaints this time.

With Lorelai tucked into his chest even more intimately – who would've thought it was possible? – he managed to manoeuvre forward the last inch and snagged the antenna of the walkie-talkie between his fingertips. Victory. He leaned back a little too hastily and felt Lorelai's body jolt with the movement. Whoops. He pressed his thumb onto the worn button and pulled the radio to his mouth, attempting to shift his head to the side just slightly so he wouldn't be talking right into slumbering Lorelai's ear.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A tinny buzz of static emitted from the handheld radio and Miss Patty shushed the hall with flourish. Well, almost shushed the hall… Kirk materialised at her side.

"As Luke's trusted friend I demand you give me the radio, Patty," he asserted, holding out his hand for the device.

"Can it, Kirk!" Gypsy growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I will not. Luke and I have a special rapport, almost our own language. I'm the only one who'll be able to understand him," Kirk added defiantly. "I am the man for the job."

"Hush Kirk," Babette contributed, forcing her way to Patty's side and closer proximately to the radio.

"As town selectman," Taylor started, closing his mouth after a withering stare from just about every inhabitant of the hall. "Uh, carry on," he motioned, clearing his throat.

The radio buzzed again and Kirk made a grab for it. It slipped from Patty's hand and skirted along the floor, bouncing and clattering as it went. By the time Kirk reacted and chased after it, Luke's voice was brokenly sounding from the speaker. A deep silence settled over the hall, shattered by only the patter of Kirk's feet as he lunged after the radio.

"..i..er…at…h..in…orela…o...y…," the town stared at radio in confusion.

"Well, Kirk, what did he say?" Gypsy demanded dryly. Kirk stared at the radio, now secured in his hand, with a pursed brow.

"If I know Luke, which I do," he nodded reassuringly. "He either said, 'send Kirk for back up,' or 'I'm at the inn and Lorelai is okay.' But I can't be sure which." Kirk shrugged and bellowed into the radio, "ten-four big buddy." The townspeople groaned a collective groan.

Assuming the conversation, or lack of it, was now over, hushed voices began filling the room once again. Patty and Babette began to argue about which memorable event constituted Kirk's biggest stuff up, with other townsfolk throwing in their two cents worth. Kirk, became significantly disgruntled and wandered back over to voice his own opinion.

"You're all wrong," he started, "I think it was worse when cat-Kirk…" He was cut off by the radio in his hand, blasting to life once again… Clearer this time –

"Luuuuke." Miss Patty leaned in, pulling Kirk's entire hand closer to her ear.

"It's Lorelai," she cried excitedly! Beside her, Sookie erupted into relieved sobs. Kirk fist-pumped the air.

"I knew it," he grinned. "Luke and Kirk. Always saving the day."

"Hold me tighter," the radio sighed longingly.

The hall descended into absolute chaos.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Lorelai shuffled in his arms as Luke stared in frustration at the radio in his hands. Literally nothing. Useless thing. It had crackled static for a second, after he had spoken, but there had been no real sign of acknowledgement from the rest of the town. Oh well. Tomorrow, when the storm settled and daylight broke he'd find a way to tell everyone that they were safe. He didn't see them sending out some sort of ill-fated rescue team so he figured it would be okay for now.

"Luuuuke," Lorelai murmured in his arms, "hold me tighter," she sighed, nestling the cold tip of her nose into the base of his neck. Luke shivered at the contact, all thoughts of the radio and the town forgotten. How could he do anything other than comply? The woman he lo–cared deeply for was encased in his arms. He tossed the radio back onto the empty armchair and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of her head. He had finally started to warm up. It seemed as if the adrenaline from his hike was wearing thin. He rested his head back against the chair and felt his eyes slipping shut. A nap was probably a good idea…

He wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours later, but there was a sharp gasp and the lump of warmth in his lap starting moving frantically. He felt himself beginning to be tugged from the depths of his slumber. A musical voice twinkling to life in the very corners of his awareness.

"Oh god. Not dreaming, not dreaming, not dreaming," Lorelai muttered over and over again.

 **AN: Thank you so much to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed! You guys are the best! I'm going overseas for a month (Europe here I come!) in four days. I was hoping to have this story finished before then, but I'm not too sure how I'll go. Please forgive the potentially terrible updating… Hopefully I will get something up before I leave, but I'm not making any promises…**


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